Ring
by pink.chocolate.unicorn
Summary: Those first few weeks after they stared at the positive pregnancy test (and then the positive confirmation from Cas' doctor because Cas need to be absolutely sure) felt like a dream. Dean figured he'd watched too much TV because he expected all sorts of changes to happen—right away. Sequel to Banded and Unbanded. (Destiel. ABO fic. Mpreg. Rated M; mature content and language.)


_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature language and content._

_Welcome back! This is the third installment to the _Banded_ 'verse. Yup, this be all about the actual pregnancy (but not in explicit detail?), so go away now if mpreg squicks you. Or if mushy, domestic fics annoy you. heh. This turned out a bit longer than I anticipated, so it's the first to be chaptered. Yay?  
><em>

_Warnings: AU. MalexMale slash. A-B-O (Alpha-Beta-Omega) fic. Alpha/Omega pairing. Omega/Beta pairing. Alpha/Alpha pairing. Smut. Language. Fluff (oh, so fluffy). Domestic feels. Mpreg. _Lots of gayness (like, a lot—practically everyone, OK?)_. Mentions of: knotting, mating, Heat cycles and self-lubrication. _

_Enjoy! :))_

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><p>It all started calmly enough. Those first few weeks after they stared at the positive pregnancy test (and then the positive confirmation from Cas' doctor because Cas need to be absolutely sure) felt like a dream; Surreal and almost unbelievable.<p>

Dean figured he'd probably watched too much TV because he expected all sorts of changes to happen—pretty much right away. But nothing really happened for the first couple of days... Weeks, even. With the exception of Cas suddenly pissing like a racehorse a few times a day, there was no real change. There was no sudden pup bump, no crazy-Cas stomping around hating on his knot and threatening castration or running around the house reorganizing and 'nesting'. None of that stuff; nothing like he'd been thinking at first.

He had dutifully read most of the books Sam shoved at him (learning more about the reproductive cycle than he thought was healthy for their sex life, quite honestly), and he thought he was ready to deal with his pregnant Mate.

But, oh boy—He wasn't. Not really. That lull of 'boring' was temporary... and deceiving. He's tempted to write the assholes that told him _what to expect_ to tell them they're goddam idiots that don't know jack shit.

At least it wasn't all slamming in at once.

It was gradual.

Cas didn't seem to suffer with morning sickness; it was _all-the-fucking-time _sickness. He hated hearing his Omega puking his guts up at all times of the day. First thing in the morning seemed the worst, but it happened other times of day, too. There wasn't a whole lot Dean could do about it and it made his fists clench uselessly as he listened to retching and the occasional quiet, whimpering moans drifting through the bathroom door.

He could only make sure he kept lots of crackers and ginger ale in the house, preening a little like an Alpha jackass every time Cas gave him a grateful smile and warm kiss when he fetched them for his queasy Omega. Unless he was bent over the toilet, Cas didn't really seem to be bothered by the whole situation, though. So Dean tried not to worry about it. Too much. Thankfully, it doesn't last long and by the time the doctor says Cas is safely in his second trimester, Cas is eating like a hungry hungry hippo. And keeping everything down.

Dean is smart enough to not mention the portion sizes or the fact that he's noticed a little extra Cas' body has gained. He kinda likes it, truth be told. He'll silently, and hopefully subtly, size Cas us every time he brings him an extra soft pretzel (extra spicy mustard, please) or adds another scoop of Tin Roof Sundae to Cas' bowl. He can't help wonder how much is the normal gain from being pregnant and how much is Cas' weird sudden interest in extra butter—on pretty much everything. The doc says he's healthy, Cas' numbers are all good, so he doesn't worry about it, just enjoys the weird little thrill it gives him to feel up Cas' slightly-softer thighs and belly.

Then there's the mood swings... Brief and not _so_ bad, but dizzying because they're so freakin' quick, he's taken by surprise more often than not.

Dean's least favorite part is the way the hormones mess with his Cas. This phase (at least, he _hopes_ it's a phase) is fucking terrible and he grumbles under his breath to himself as he re-reads those passages in the stupid book. Temporary. But recurring. He curses softly and closes the book for the nth time. He's considered cataloging all of the various moods of his Omega. Privately, of course, because he's pretty sure the creative and ruthless threats to his person (and favorite parts) _will_ be carried out if Cas knew—bare-handed and slowly.

There's Cranky Cas. Normally, his Omega is fairly even-tempered; it's one of those things he likes about Cas. But, thankfully, it's rare that Cas looks ready (and able) to rip his lungs out of his chest for breathing too loud or beat him to a pulp with his Xbox controller when he's playing Call of Duty with Sam for more than an hour. The rather sudden change between sweet Cas and killer Cas is not something Dean is expecting. He quickly learns when to leave his Omega alone, though; when to crowd his Omega with his bulk and scent and when back away and give Cas some space.

The latter is actually pretty hard to do, especially with nearly every instinct in him screaming at him to stay close to his pregnant Mate. Take his Cas away from every possible, imaginable threat to his Omega and pup. To envelop his Omega in his arms, tuck him tight to his chest and to keep Cas close and safe. But Cas sometimes reacts to that shit in the complete opposite way; he's not prepared for it that first time, mourning the loss of his favorite T-shirt in the privacy of their bedroom. But he can't _not_ do what Cas wants (or needs), even if it's completely ridiculous and contrary, so he squashes his Alpha-dick urges and backs off. He's gotten pretty damn good at noticing the signs and getting the hell outta Dodge before there can be major problems. He doesn't leave for long, since Cas is drawn him the remainder of the time and needs his Alpha once he's calmed down.

Because as much as he knows his Omega loves him, and he adores Cas right back, it's better that he fucks off for awhile so Cas isn't tempted towards homicide. Or a blubbering mess and freaking out about being so mean to him. The books offer little help as to why this happens—something about protective urges in the expecting Omega—and that they just that they have to soldier through. That it should lessen mid-way through the second trimester. _Awesome._

Dean has also learned that mornings, when Cas is crankiest normally but oh-so much worse now, go smoothest when he's got fresh doughnuts (at least 3) and lots of apple juice. He's also learned not to grimace at the combination of doughnuts and juice (because—_ew_). Or make faces at the diabetes-inducing amounts of sugar his Omega happily consumes in the morning. He only had to be glared at once, Cas' head tilted like an evil movie villain (seriously; dude just needed to be petting a fluffy white cat to complete the image), his voice low and edging on dangerous when he quietly asked "You wouldn't deny our pup, would you, Dean?", staring him down with his hand protectively splayed over his still-flat abdomen.

Alpha or not, Dean just shook his head and shut the hell up. He also left the other doughnuts alone, hands up in clear surrender, when he was pretty sure he heard Cas _growl_ when he even looked at the box.

Thankfully, the Cranky (or Borderline Psycho, as Dean calls it in his head where he's _pretty sure_ Cas can't hear it) isn't the only hormone-induced-personality quirk his Omega has gained. There's Sleepy, Clingy, Grumpy (like Cranky but almost adorable and decidedly less homicidal) and Horny. It feels like raunchy, fucked up cast offs from Snow White and he'd probably laugh if he weren't intimately acquainted with all of them.

Sleepy is easy; he just makes sure Cas is comfortable wherever he happens to be when he's suddenly hit with the droopy eyes and jaw-cracking yawns. Most times, Cas is content to snuggle into his side and use him like a pillow. He likes those times; he gets to cradle Cas close like he needs to and Cas gets a nap so the dark smudges under his eyes recede a little. And he can get away with ordering pizza or Chinese because he didn't want to slip out from under Cas so he could make dinner. Cas doesn't usually object, just turns all gooey at Dean's unwillingness to leave his side and gorges himself on whatever is in reach and soothes his craving-du-jour.

Clingy and Sleepy are similar, because he's got his Omega firmly attached to him, but Clingy is a little different because Cas is usually awake and wrapped around him the moment he's still. Possessively, verging on desperate. Scenting and Marking. Wriggling and whining softly. Dean doesn't fight it, even if occasionally Cas' actions verge on dominating him, he kinda likes it so he doesn't pitch a fit over it. Cas' Clingy moments don't last long; usually they'll settle down to watch a movie in a ball of limbs. By the time the credits roll, Cas' arms are looser and he's not eyeing Dean with apprehension, like he's expecting the Alpha to spring up and run off into the night at any moment.

Clingy is OK. It doesn't take him long to learn how to handle the Clingy times; as long as he stays put and keeps Cas close, a hand somewhere on his Omega's bare skin, it's manageable. Fun, almost.

Especially because Clingy usually leads to Horny.

Dean likes Horny the most. Of course. He's grateful for their own home (and Sam's new found habit of calling first) every time Cas pins him somewhere. Every time Cas shamelessly wriggles against his front, usually yanking off whatever pants Dean's wearing (occasionally just lowering the zipper enough for his immediately interested and almost perpetually hard cock to spring out and be available) and impaling himself within seconds, regardless of where they are.

He's pretty sure that by now one of their asses has been pressed against nearly every wall and flat surface in their home. And their sofa will probably need to be treated by a HazMat team (possibly burned) by the end of the month but he doesn't give a shit. Not when his Omega is bouncing energetically in is lap, holding him down with those bony knees and strong thighs and just going to town like Dean is just some sort of realistic sex toy.

It's pretty fucking awesome and more often than not, he's content to just lay back and let Cas do his thing.

The only real downside Dean can see, so far, is he's had to replace his phone three times now. Cas likes to ninja out in front of him, rip it out of his hand and toss it, not giving a shit where it ends up, just before crawling into his lap and demanding his full attention. They've had to replace two chairs, too, because his Omega can get really freakin' enthusiastic when he's stuffed full of hormones and his knot. He's still icing down the muscle in his thigh because Cas thinks he's a freakin' gymnast and tried some really athletic shit two days ago. He can't even think about it without wincing and getting hard at the same time.

Yeah. He likes horny the most.

It's one of these moments Dean remembers the rings he's been carrying around. Cas had shoved his pants to his ankles and he'd nearly forgotten he had a _reason_ for cornering Cas before he went to work. His peace-offering doughnut had been completely ignored and is now a squished, sugar-sticky mess somewhere under his left thigh. And as awesome as it turned out, it wasn't so Cas could knock him down and mount him like a freakin' rodeo cowboy right there in the hallway.

He's trying to get his upper brain functions to work, but he's really only thinking about the way his fingers are splayed out on Cas' hips as they rock and move. The feeling of his bare-ass pressed against the cool tiles. Or their combined sweat and Cas' slick making a complete mess of his lap.

And the gorgeous sounds his Omega makes every time he rolls his hips, flexes his thighs and moves up and down his dick. That damn hip wiggle and buck Cas does that settles Dean's knot right inside where they both want it__—_need it_—__to be. _Fuck,_ but it's fan-fucking-tastic. And really distracting. The overall sensation and visual of Cas coming all over his own belly and Dean's shirt is pretty distracting, too. Especially because Cas comes _again_ when Dean finally gets off, knot squeezed rhythmically by Cas' orgasm and talented muscles, scrambling his brain as he twitches with each spurt.

Dean brushes back Cas' sweaty hair, thumb idly massaging along his Omega's exposed neck as he thinks about how quickly he can take another shower and change before he's really late for work. Not that Bobby will bitch him out too badly for being late; the older Beta seems suspiciously warm and fuzzy towards him since learning Cas is expecting a pup. He wonders how far he could push things, what he could get away with, if he just casually mentions Cas or something about being a dad soon.

His fingers wiggle and caress and Cas goes practically boneless against his chest, his heated body molded along Dean's with a happy little sound vibrating through his chest. He can't help smiling or finding it really freakin' adorable, but now that he's able to actually think, he's only got a few minutes to get things back on track.

"Cas?" Dean looks down as Cas makes a soft sound of acknowledgment, managing to tilt his head back just enough to make eye-contact so Dean knows he heard him. "I'm pretty sure this is, like, _the_ shittiest time to ask—but I don't wanna forget again." Cas makes another sound, inquisitive and curious, nuzzles into his neck and leaves a trail of soft kisses up his neck and jaw. He shudders a little and feels his spent dick twitch with a valiant effort of interest as their stubble rasps together and he gets a nose-full of the most amazing scent; _sated, happy, pregnant Cas_.

Dean angles his head away, takes a deep breath and silently prays he doesn't fuck things up. Or that his Omega won't agree with the terrible timing and refuse. His fingers tighten a little in Cas' hair, reflexively. His Omega's happy hum and slight wiggle forward nearly distracts him. "Marry me?"

Castiel slowly sits upright, leaning his hands against Dean's chest and willing his still orgasm-tingly and pleasure heavy body to obey. He really wants to just lounge against his Alpha for another few minutes, Scenting and snuggling up as they cool and calm down, but this requires his immediate and close attention. He eyes Dean intently, studying his Alpha from inches away through slightly narrowed eyes. Dean looks flushed and fucked out, of course, but happy and completely besotted. But under all that, his Alpha is clearly wary, waiting for his answer. Dean's scent has a hint of unease to it and he tilts his head a little.

"And you figured _now_ was the time to ask?" he asks softly, lips twitching with a suppressed grin. OK, not the most romantic proposal ever, but he's still completely flushed with warmth and a fierce, helpless sort of love for his ridiculous Alpha. Mostly that he'd ask at all.

Dean rolls his eyes and shifts Cas' weight a little, clamping down the urge to moan when his dick finally slips out with an obscene wet sound. He ignores the mess and murmurs a soft apology, petting along Cas' flank when is Omega grimaces, too. "No? I mean, I was gonna ask before you—" He briefly glances down meaningfully, raising an eyebrow and grinning. Cas just smiles warmly at him, not at all sorry for distracting him. Which, yeah, he didn't want him to be sorry; just get that he had fully intended to be a romantic idiot _before_ Cas' hormones waylaid his big romantic plans and they ended up fucking like idiots in the damn hallway.

Because he totally had romantic plans. He can do romance, thankyouverymuch.

"What were you going to do instead?" Castiel asks, wriggling around to a more comfortable position on Dean's lap. His Alpha's knot is now completely down and no longer pressing teasingly along his slicked cleft, so he's able to concentrate on Dean's expression. And the bright blush now pinking his Alpha's face. "Dean?" he asks softly, leaning in to place a soft, chaste kiss on Dean's lips. It's not often he sees an expression he can safely label 'adorable' on his Alpha. Dean is many things—rugged, sex-on-bowed-legs, gorgeous, not-so-secretely-sweet-natured and stubborn as hell—but rarely overtly adorable.

Dean clears his throat. "I was— Uh. I guess I'm still gonna— If you say yes, that is—"

"Yes," Castiel interrupts with a soft, incredulous huff, hating the tremor he heard in his Alpha's voice at the word 'if'. Dean stares back, looking awestruck, his chin actually trembling slightly as he looks back with wide, wet looking eyes. Did Dean actually expect a 'no'? He nuzzles and Scents at Dean, reassuring his silly Alpha, feeling giddy and a little overwhelmed. His fingers dig into the muscle of Dean's shoulders but he doesn't even seem to notice. "So, I've said yes, now what?"

Dean has to clear his throat again and makes a hasty swipe at his face, making sure he's not bawling like an idiot. He leans over suddenly, nearly tipping Cas off his lap if he hadn't wrapped an arm around his Omega's waist, and tries to grab at his pants. "I gotta ring," he says, pawing at the pooled fabric and trying to get to his pocket at the awkward angle he's sitting at. He doesn't want to have to move Cas from his lap but he just might have to. "Aha!" Finally he snags a belt loop with a finger and yanks. He nearly tears the pocket getting the ring box out, fumbling the box before squeezing the hell out of it so he won't drop it.

Castiel eyes the way Dean's hand trembles a little as he works the box open. He slides his hands over Dean's and squeezes gently. "Just a ring?" he teases, sliding his hands up Dean's arms to rest on broad shoulders. The opened ring box presses against his chest and he really wants to snatch it out of Dean's hands and cradle it, slip it on and just stare at it... But Dean looks a little too freaked out for his comfort and that's first priority.

"No," Dean says, face scrunching with annoyance for a moment. God, Cas can be a little shit sometimes. He huffs a soft laugh, though, because teasing actually helps calm him down a little. The tension eases from his shoulders, helped along by Cas' skilled hands massaging, rubbing and stroking. "I was gonna make you a nice, big breakfast. Do the one knee thing. And I—Uh. Flowers," he admits, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. OK. Maybe the flowers are girly, and super sappy, but every damn commercial on TV showed Alphas, on bended knee, shoving flowers at their swooning Omegas during a proposal. And the Omega gushing happily and babbling 'yes' through happy tears and excited kisses.

So. You know. He got flowers, too, dammit.

He's not sure where they ended up, though__—__probably wilting on the counter in their cellophane cone thing. But if the gooey way Cas is looking at him means anything, he doesn't need to worry about them right now. He goes with a happy sound when Cas yanks him into another kiss, trying to keep up with with the way his Omega practically bites at him in his exuberance only to pull back just a little to peck him with languid, lazy, loving kisses that scatter across his mouth, chin and cheeks. Cas fingers are splayed out on his neck and jaw, stroking and cradling him, making him feel tingly and light all over. It's a dizzying combination and he's helpless under the onslaught.

"Plans!" Dean blurts out between kisses, lips hindered by Cas' and muffling him a little. As much as he'd love to sink into what's looking to be round two, his brain melting a little because Cas' sweet pecks have turned into wet, open mouthed filthy kisses, he figures they should discuss things. Even if talking is so overrated... He turns his head enough to speak better, groaning when Cas only latches onto his neck instead of his mouth. Teeth nibble and those damn lips working as his tongue laves a wet, hot trail up towards his mouth again. But at least he can talk. Sort of. "Cas, we gotta—" He inhales sharply, words dying on a moan when Cas' hips roll forward.

"_Later_," Castiel growls out, grabbing Dean by the face and leaning in. "You cannot be adorable, sexy__—___proposing__—___and then expect no consequences, Dean," he chides as he slides his hands under Dean's wrinkled T-shirt to feel the warm skin on his sides and belly. He can feel his Alpha's firm muscles clench and roll under his hands, both of them shifting into the other in perfect sync. He can hear Dean's panting moans. He can smell, practically taste, his Alpha's arousal.

He's tempted to stop long enough so Dean can get them to a more comfortable surface, but the thought is gone as soon as he feels Dean's large hands wrap around his thighs and he's being moved, shifted into a better position.

That can wait until later, too.

...

Dean feels like he's been hit by a truck. Right in the damn crotch. He hasn't been this sore since that week of Cas' Heat... But he's not complaining. Nope. He'd be really freakin' stupid to complain. Because he knows there's going to be a time when Cas won't want to Mate like crazed bunnies and he's going to enjoy it while it happens. And he figures they should use the the break between crazed Matings productively.

"Alright, Cas. Talk to me," he says, sitting down across from his Omega. Since the impromptu proposal (and fumbling ring exchange), Cas has been quiet. Introspective. He's curious, but not worried yet. Cas still attacks him regularly and seeks him out for cuddles and stuff so it's probably not a bad thing. But he can't help it; he doesn't like seeing Cas too-quiet and stressing out as quietly as he possibly can.

Castiel looks up from the magazine he'd been staring through to meet Dean's eyes. "About?" he asks, as if he doesn't know.

"Wedding," Dean says, offering a half-smile. "I mean. If you're not changing your mind or anything," he adds hastily. He knows asking on the end of an orgasm high wasn't the smartest thing he's ever done; probably one of the stupidest, actually. Even if he had been planning it, it was rash and kinda unfair. Cas is a deep thinker, a strategist, and he wouldn't be surprised if his Omega used his hormone and pheromone free mind to re-think a few things.

He startles a little when he's suddenly got a lap full of glowering Omega; Cas' body stiff and tense, his expression one that could kill with looks alone, and his hands clenched in Dean's T-shirt to pull him close enough their noses are nearly touching as he stares him down. It's oddly arousing, quite honestly. His hands settle on Cas' hips out of habit, but he doesn't do anything else. Not while Cas is giving him the smite-you-for-being-stupid look.

"I have not changed my mind, Dean."

Dean nods, huffing a soft relieved breath out as a smile breaks across his face. But Cas still has that pensive look and he's worrying the inside of his mouth, by his bottom lip—as if Dean can't see him doing it. "Okay," he says slowly, running his hands along Cas' back and sides, trying to sooth and relax. He hates to see Cas so stressed. And it's not good for the pup. He hums softly with satisfaction when Cas' body relaxes with his touch, their chest pressed together as his Omega leans in closer to soak up his body heat. "So, what's up?"

"I'm..." Castiel trails off, leaning back a little and looking away. He uncurls his fists from Dean's shirt and slides them up Dean's chest, resting them on broad shoulders. A tingle of arousal works through him but he knows Dean won't be distracted so easily. "Details," he says with a sharp sigh. "I'm thinking of the details." Dean's hands still their soothing motions on his back and he merely gazes back, curious and waiting. "What we should wear. Where we should go. Who we should invite." Dean nods with each thing, a small smile on his face now. OK. He can do this. "I don't want a... big thing."

Dean shrugs easily. He slides his hands down Cas' hip to lightly palm his ass. "Okay, so we keep it small. Just your pack, Sammy, Bobby—"

"No."

Dean blinks, surprised. Cas looks on the verge of flopping onto his back or something he looks so damn sorry... But determined, though, nonetheless. "Uhm. Okay. Just us?" he offers, eyebrows raised. Cas slowly nods, teeth worrying his top lip now. "Yeah, okay, that's fine," he says honestly. Cas slowly relaxes, looking at him incredulously, one dark eyebrow perked up his forehead. "What? Yeah, I'd like a big thing—show off a little—but not if you don't. We'll sneak off to Vegas or something if that's what you want."

"You— You're alright with that?" Castiel asks. He hadn't imagined Dean being so easy about it. In every imagined scenario, his Alpha insisted that he invite his brother and Bobby at least, and Cas' entire pack at the worst. All 30 plus of them (possibly more, he hasn't kept abreast of pack news and there's bound to be a few new pups and Mates added by now). Dean is a pack-oriented Alpha and he'd fully expected an argument about it.

He loves his pack, he does, but they're insane and full of drama and chaos at the best of times. Not what he wants around his wedding day if he can at all avoid it. It's possible he'd feel different if he weren't expecting, but it's silly to even ponder on something that he can't__—__nor would__—__change. He adores Sam and Bobby but he can't justify inviting them and not his pack; it feels... wrong, somehow, even though he truly wants to have them there.

Castiel blinks back into awareness to Dean kissing his chin lightly, thumbs gently rubbing along his cheeks. He realizes, belatedly, that Dean had been speaking. He'd been so lost in thought, he hadn't heard a word. "I'm sorry, Dean. What did you say?"

"I said, is it alright if we do a wild reception party later? Like after?"

Castiel shrugs, hand resting on his stomach. "I don't know," he murmurs quietly. He had hoped to keep his pack away from Dean and his own for awhile yet. He's not ashamed of either of them but they're all full of strong personalities and he's hoping to put that off for as long as possible. It would be overwhelming and he's a little ashamed to admit that he doesn't think he'll be able to handle it any time soon... especially not with the prospect of a newborn to add to his stress levels.

"No, huh?" Dean muses aloud, noting Cas is tense again. He knows Cas gets along well enough with his pack, but it's a freakin' huge pack. He's not sure how excited he is to jump head-first into that kinda mess at the moment either. He's not used to big crowds and lots of people crammed into one room. The idea of 30 or so strangers (even if they are Cas' pack) in the same room with him, Sam and Bobby and his pregnant Mate makes him want to twitch, sweat and pace with panic. The very idea of it happening later, with their newborn pup in the mix, kinda makes him nauseated with all sorts of Alpha urges.

He nods slowly, gathering Cas closer and nuzzling his neck. He hums quietly when Cas' head tilts to the side automatically and places a few soft kisses there. "Yeah, okay. Maybe not," he says through a quiet chuckle. "You do realize we'll have to do the big pack meet-n-greet sooner or later, though, right?"

"Yes," Castiel mutters. He's very aware. "But I'd like to put it off as long as possible, please." He smiles when Dean snorts a laugh against him and holds him closer.

"Okay. We'll start small and do little gatherings?" Dean offers, feeling Cas reluctantly nod against him. Maybe one or two invited to dinner occasionally won't be so bad. He purses his lips a little and nods, but he's already back to thinking about the actually getting married part of the conversation, "So, a brief thing at the courthouse and then a big ass honeymoon?" he asks, since he's looking forward to spending any money they would've on a wedding on their honeymoon. Because suddenly the idea of at least three weeks of naked, bendy, newly-wedded bliss with Cas on a beach sounds just awesome.

"Within the week?" Castiel murmurs, hoping to avoid looking the clichéd part of the 'pregnant Omega getting married' look. He's hoping Dean will agree and they can do it before he starts to really show.

Dean nods eagerly and Castiel can't help draw him in for a thorough kiss.


End file.
